


When Anger Fades

by Wolfling



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 20:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfling/pseuds/Wolfling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I thought we were like Fight Club," he blurted. Derek just raised his eyebrows at him so he continued, "Y'know, the first rule of Fight Club is we don't talk about Fight Club. I thought we were like that. That we..."</p><p>"Don't talk about it?" Derek finished for him.</p><p>"Yes! That us -- what we have, our relationship, feelings, all of that -- that we, y'know, do what we do and shut up about it." Great, he'd gone from quoting Fight Club to quoting Supernatural.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Anger Fades

**Author's Note:**

> Just a bit of New Year's Eve fluff I wrote intending to include it with the holiday cards I completely failed at managing to send.

"Hey," Stiles said, coming up behind Derek and wrapping his arms around Derek's waist from behind. "They're missing you inside."

He felt more than heard Derek sigh as he pressed back just a little against Stiles. "Sorry," he said softly.

Stiles rested his chin on Derek's shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I just wanted to make sure you were all right." He paused. "Are you? All right?"

"Yeah," Derek replied gratifyingly fast. "I just..." He gave a small shrug, which Stiles moved easily with. "Just needed some air, I guess."

Stiles suspected it was less air Derek had needed and more breathing room. "Do you want me to go back in?" he offered, making to let go and step back.

Only to be stopped by Derek's hand covering his own. "Stay."

"Okay," Stiles said immediately, falling back into his original position or maybe even a little closer.

They stood like that for a while, Derek leaning back against him, head tilted up slightly to look at the night sky. Stiles bit his tongue and curbed his natural inclination to fill up any silence with the sound of his voice. It had taken him longer than he liked to admit, but he finally had figured out that sometimes he got further with Derek when he was quiet instead of babbling.

His patience and restraint were rewarded when Derek stirred with a sigh. "It's stupid," he said. 

Stiles turned his head enough to nuzzle the side of Derek's face, imitating what would have been a scenting gesture if he were a werewolf. "Try me."

Derek huffed, relaxing a little at Stiles' movements. When he spoke again, his voice was soft, almost hesitant. "I just... I looked around the room at everyone... at the Pack and it was just... it was too perfect. I had to get out for a little bit."

"You got scared."

"No. I'm always scared." The soft matter of fact way he said it made Stiles' heart turn over in sympathy at the same time he understood the emotion perfectly. There was a part of him that was always scared too, had been ever since his Mom had died. Scared that he would lose the other people he cared about like he'd lost her. He couldn't imagine how much worse it had to be for Derek who had lost so much more.

Derek was still talking. "It wasn't that I was scared. It was that I realized I wasn't angry."

Stiles frowned in puzzlement. "And... that's a bad thing?"

"It's... I'm always angry." Derek paused and took a deep breath before continuing. "Ever since the... Fire... the anger, the rage, it's always there, even stronger than the fear. And then tonight, I looked around and realized that it wasn't."

"Okay, I can see how that could be a little startling," Stiles said, tightening his arms around Derek as he spoke. "I'm still not seeing how that's a bad thing?"

"My anger was my anchor," Derek said.

That had Stiles freezing in place for several heartbeats then pulling away enough to urge Derek to turn around so they could be face to face. He had enough experience with werewolves without their anchors to know just how unsettling and dangerous that could be. Hopefully with Derek being a born wolf things wouldn't be as bad for him but still. "Are you okay?" he asked, searching Derek's expression for the answer, knowing sometimes it told the truth more clearly than his words. 

"I'm fine," Derek told him, the corners of his mouth turning up into the ghost of a reassuring smile as he reached out and slid his hands around Stiles' waist, pulling him closer. "It's fine, Stiles, I promise."

"So you're not in danger of wolfing out and trying to kill everyone in sight because we succeeded in making you too zen?" Stiles asked cautiously even though everything he knew about the werewolf was telling him that Derek wasn't lying when he said he was fine.

Derek shook his head, his smile becoming a little more there. "I'm good. I've got a new anchor."

"Oh." Stiles blinked. Of course he did. That totally made sense. Except for why this is what Derek decided to tell him when he asked why he'd ducked out of the party. Unless... "You totally just figured all of this out yourself, didn't you?"

Derek huffed out a breath, his expression halfway between exasperation and sheepishness. "Maybe."

Stiles tilted his head as he regarded him."So... what? You were in there getting your party on, basking in the awesomeness of Pack togetherness when nothing is trying to kill us, realized you were basking a little too much to maintain your anger anchor, freaked and pulled a vanishing act, only to figure out no harm, no foul because anger wasn't your anchor after all?"

Another little huffed out breath and a genuine Derek Hale glare. "I hate you."

"No you don't," Stiles said, sliding his arms around Derek's neck, gently urging him closer, secure in the knowledge of just how much Derek didn't hate him. "I'm fairly sure you pretty much the opposite of hate me."

The glare smoothed out again as Derek gave in to the unspoken suggestion and kissed him. "You're entirely too smug about that," he said, resting his forehead against Stiles'.

"Probably," Stiles admitted cheerfully. "Probably not going to stop being smug about it any time soon either. I mean, you have seen yourself, right? I've a lot to be smug over."

Derek's mouth curled up into the kind of affectionate smile that warmed Stiles from his head to his toes. "Me too."

"Damn straight," Stiles agreed. "I'm awesome. "

"You know what else you are?" Derek asked, his hands tugging at Stiles' waist, pulling him closer until they were pressed up against each other.

"Irresistible?" Stiles joked, grinning at him.

Derek leaned in to kiss him and just before their lips met, he murmured, "You're my anchor."

Stiles froze at that, then pulled back just enough to meet Derek's eyes. "Me?" he all but squeaked.

"You," Derek confirmed, kissing him again briefly before pulling back with the faintest of frowns. "That can't come as a complete surprise to you."

"Not... exactly," Stiles said slowly. He knew he and Derek had something profound between them – a bond built on... on snark and shared danger and trust and shared orgasms and mutual like and okay, more than just like. But. They had just kind of fallen into it. They didn't plan it and for all the talking they did, some of it on some pretty tough and emotional subjects even, they never talked about this. Them. Whatever they were to each other. They just... went with the flow. 

Until now it seemed.

"I thought we were like Fight Club," he blurted. Derek just raised his eyebrows at him so he continued, "Y'know, the first rule of Fight Club is we don't talk about Fight Club. I thought we were like that. That we..."

"Don't talk about it?" Derek finished for him.

"Yes! That us -- what we have, our relationship, feelings, all of that -- that we, y'know, do what we do and shut up about it." Great, he'd gone from quoting Fight Club to quoting Supernatural.

Worse, Derek obviously recognized it. "Stiles," he said with a fond smile, "we are not the Winchesters."

"I know that! We are, like, at least ten times cooler than the Winchesters."

Derek sighed softly and moved so they were resting their foreheads together. "I'm freaking you out," he observed.

"No!" Stiles protested, wincing a little when it came out far louder than he had meant it too. "No," he repeated in a softer tone, reaching up to curve one hand around the back of Derek's neck. "You're not freaking me out. It's just... this is a big deal. And I always thought...."

"What?" Derek asked, not moving.

Stiles took a deep breath. "I always thought I'd be the one to say 'I love you' first."

He watched Derek's mouth curl up into a happy smile. "I didn't say I love you," he pointed out.

"Pretty sure you did," Stiles insisted with a grin. 

"Whatever," Derek said, trying to sound grumpy, but the smile he was still wearing pretty much ruined the attempt.

They spent the next few minutes grinning dopily at each other. In the back of his brain Stiles noted that even when they did finally get around to talking about them, there weren't many words involved. Which he was totally fine with -- dopey grins were more than an acceptable means of communication.

Finally Derek pulled back with a sigh. "We should probably get back to the party. It's going to be midnight soon."

Stiles pulled out his phone to check the time. "Yeah, in about five minutes." Still, when Derek started to turn and took a step to head inside, Stiles stayed where he was, save for reaching out and catching Derek's hand. When Derek looked back at him questioningly, Stiles said, "I don't really want to go back inside."

"You sure?" Derek asked, eyebrows raised. "I thought you'd want to be with the whole Pack to ring in the new year."

"I'd rather ring it in with just you," Stiles said, feeling his face heat as he spoke. "Just the two of us. Out here. Under the moon. If that's okay....?"

"Yeah," Derek said with that small genuine smile that Stiles would never tire of seeing.

"So I think we should make out," Stiles said, stepping in close to Derek again and sliding his arms up to rest on Derek's shoulders.

Derek responded by wrapping his arms around Stiles' waist and pulling him in flush against his body. "Do you." It wasn't really a question and delivered in dry but fond tone of voice.

"Yep," Stiles replied, drawing out the word and popping the final p. "Because they say you should start the new year off doing what you want to be doing for the next twelve months so I definitely think we should be making out."

"I'm surprised you're not angling for blow jobs then," Derek said dryly.

"Might be a bit too public for that," Stiles said with real regret. The idea of starting the new year mid-coitus held some real appeal, enough for him to add, "Though if you're offering-"

He was cut off by Derek's mouth on his and only continued trying to talk for a couple of seconds more before getting with the making out program. 

A few minutes later even Stiles heard the muffled sound of cheers and singing and he smiled against Derek's lips. 

"Happy New Year," Derek murmured, pulling back just enough to be able to speak; he was still close enough that Stiles could feel the puff of his breath as he spoke.

"Happy New Year," Stiles replied. "Now less talk, more kissing." 

Derek huffed a soft laugh at that, but complied.


End file.
